


Too Much, Too Soon

by theonlymoosewhoeatssalad



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-10-29 04:26:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10846452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonlymoosewhoeatssalad/pseuds/theonlymoosewhoeatssalad
Summary: All he wanted was peace and quiet after everything he's been through. Though things never really work out the way he wants them to.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PhoenixIsLost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixIsLost/gifts).



Prologue 

 

Everything hurt. And by hurt, he absolutely meant that he was pretty sure that being dead was not supposed to hurt as much as it did because there was a blinding amount of pain stemming from his right arm and up to his skull. It was hard to open his eyes without tears welling in them. How the hell did people deal with pain?

It took him forever to finally pry his eyes open, but he found only darkness. He slowly started to panic as he blinked to see if he really had opened his eyes. Was he blind? What had happened to him? He couldn't even remember anything beyond killing Lucy.

Gently he pushed his left arm up to see if he could feel anything. The crinkling of plastic fabric confused him but also gave him some kind of insight that he was in a bag of some sort. What kind of back was big enough to fit a human? Holy shit he's in a body bag. In one painfully cell swoop, everything that happened with Juno came pounding back into the forefront of his brain. He lifted his hand to rub it against his temples, head searing with memories and touching the orb and it literally killing him. 

He was dead. But he wasn't really. Because the pain was still throbbing up his arm and his head hurt and he could feel the body bag around him. Slowly he started to unzip it and light flooded through, burning his retinas. He rubbed his eyes roughly and opened them again. He was staring at a ceiling. Careful not to use his right arm, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. For a while, he thought he was in a regular morgue.

That was until he saw the Abstergo sign on the wall. He was so utterly fucked. Quietly he pulled himself out of the bag and slipped to the floor, the only thing making a sound being the tag tied around his toe. He looked down at it. D. MILES was written clearly on the tag. He slowly pulled it off with his other big toe and picked it up. There was no way he was going to let them have any evidence of him being here. He looked around before putting it in his mouth and swallowing. 

With his stomach now very upset, he examined his arm. It was black up to his elbow and looked to be peeling. There were red splotches from where the black was peeling off. Trying desperately not to vomit, he made his way to some drawers. He dug around trying to find gauze or anything to wrap his arm. He heard a beep before a door behind him opened. 

“Who are you? What are you doing in here?” a man in a lab coat asked.

He stared at the man before he ran up and wrapped an arm around the lab coat man's neck. The man struggled for a bit before he slouched. He let him slide to the floor carefully before pulling off all of his clothes and putting them on. He hoisted the unconscious man up and put him in the bag and zipped it back up. 

With his arm mostly covered, he made his way down a hallway, hoping to find a stairwell or an elevator. He came to the latter first. He bounced on his feet in indecision before he pressed the button hurriedly. As much as he’d love to take the stairs, he didn't think he’d make it with how much his as arn hurt. Flexing his fingers was making him so dizzy. 

He stepped into the elevator when it opened up for him and pressed the lobby button way too hard. Fear of being caught was bubbling throughout his entire being, eyes wandering to the ceiling to see if any cameras were on the elevator. There probably were millions of cameras but it didn't seem like they were looking too hard as the alarm still hadn’t gone off yet. 

It felt like nine years had gone by before the elevator stopped, but not at his floor. He stood in the corner with his head down as people filed in, not even noticing him. At least he still retained his assassin skills. This gave him more hope than he thought it could. He could actually make it out of here. The elevator closed again and made it's way down. He slowly and gently pushed his way out without drawing the other passengers attention once it hit the lobby. 

Slowly he walked right out the front door of Abstergo, not even raising a glance from the security guards. By the time the alarm actually sounded, Desmond Miles was already long gone.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desmond finds out just how much he missed

The first thing he did as soon as he was as far away from Abstergo was get rid of the lab coat he was wearing. He managed to find a store with someone not paying enough attention for him to just take some jeans and a hoodie from a rack. On the way out, he tossed the lab coat and slacks in a trash bin. Lucky for him, no one seemed to notice or care. 

It didn't take him long to find out where he was, looking around at the signs around him. It was busy too. The streets filled with people. Some American, but most of them just going about their daily lives.

Desmond rubbed at his face, exhausted. The templars would drag him across the world in a body bag. He kept moving, making his way to what looked like a train station.

It took him days to get away from what he could only now assume as Tokyo. Mainly because he had to pickpocket people to get enough money to even pay for it. Not only was it expensive, Desmond was having trouble figuring out how to even tell how much something was. He watched out the window as the city was left behind, knowing he wouldn't miss it. He just wanted to find Rebecca and Shaun…. And his dad. 

How long had he been gone? How long has he been dead? Desmond sighed heavily and slumped into his seat. The person next to him looked over at him. Another American. Like him. The man looked tired. 

“You okay?” the man asked. 

“Fine.” 

“Mm.” It was quiet between the two of them. 

“Where you from?” the man next to him asked, shifting a bit to look at him.

“New York.” 

“Really? I just came from there.”

“Oh yeah? How's it going there? It's been awhile since I've been home,” Desmond shifted to look at the man. 

“Just some business. Uh… last time I was there, there was an alien invasion.” Desmond gave him a very weird look. The man moved a seat closer and pulled out his phone. He pulled up a video of a giant alien worm going through a building. Suddenly his entire world seemed to be flipped. 

“When was this?” he asked, looking at the man. 

“Uh…. About March of 2012.”

“What year is it now?” Desmond asked, panic racking his brain. 

“2016…” the man watched as Desmond put a hand to his mouth and leaned over to process this. 4 years. He's been dead for 4 years. Was he even really dead? Shouldn't his body have decomposed by now? 

“Where's the nearest airport?” He asked, getting up. 

“Probably back in Tokyo… kid? Where are you going? They can't stop the train,” the man stood to follow, but Desmond was already trying to see if he could get a window open. He grunted in annoyance when it didn't. He looked around for an emergency exit before he started for the back of the train. 

The man continued to follow him to the back of the train. Trying to get him to answer questions about himself. 

“Kid, you can't just jump off a train,” the man said finally, grabbing his burnt arm. Desmond ripped his arm away from him, dizzy from the sudden pain. He clutched his arm and breathed deeply. The man looked deeply disturbed as he watched Desmond work himself through the pain. 

“I have to… get back to New York.” 

“Why don't you wait until we get to the next station and I'll help you get back? You don't look good and I'm a doctor.” 

“You're a doctor?” Desmond narrowed his eyes at the man. He nodded. 

“Dr Bruce Banner.” 

“....Desmond…” 

“Just Desmond?” Dr Banner asked,gently leading him back to their seats. 

“Yeah. Just Desmond.” He sat down carefully, nauseated from his arm hurting so much. The doctor moved to look at it and Desmond moved away. 

“Not very trusting huh? I get it. I won't ask. But let me at least see.” Desmond regarded him suspiciously, before he decidedly pulled his jacket off and unwrapping the gauze he had on it. Banner cursed under his breathe at the sight of his blackened arm. 

“What’d you do? Put your arm in Napalm?” Desmond glared at him. “Right, no questions.” 

Doctor Banner was silent the entire time he examined Desmond’s burnt arm, making small grunts whenever he found something he didn't like. He rewrapped the arm once he was finished, making sure to apply antiseptic so it wouldn’t get infected. Eventually Desmond decided it was time to nap until Banner woke him up saying that it was time to get off. 

“There's an airport near here. I'll get us a cab. I'll fly back with you.” 

“I don't like that idea.” 

“Well that's too bad,” Banner walked away and Desmond realized he was now stuck with someone he didn't know. He groaned and waited for Banner to come back.


	3. Chapter 2

The cab ride to the airport was short but Desmond felt like it took forever. The doctor was silent the entire ride. Though he did let him know what the cab driver was saying whenever he spoke. 

“You speak Japanese?” Desmond asked after a bit.

“Just a little. I speak very little of a lot of languages.” Desmond nodded and looked out the window. The airport was in sight now and he knew immediately the Templars controlled it. He groaned internally and slouched. He muttered, irritated. 

Desmond really wasn't sure what he was expecting, but really he should have expected Abstergo agents crawling through the airport. He kept Banner close, using him to completely blend in. 

“What are you doing?” Banner asked, looking at him confused. 

“This place is crawling with security guards.”

“And why would you be hiding?” Banner asked, raising a brow. 

Desmond rolled his eyes and didn't answer. He lifted his burnt arm. It wasn't healing. Not that he really expected it to. It was a Precursor burn. If anything it would just stop hurting. He was sure it would just sink into his skin whenever the peeling stopped. It didn't take them long before he was being shouted out by the guards, yelling at him to stop. Desmond pushed Bruce out of the way and sprinted down the hall. Bruce watched confused until the guards ran by him in order to catch him. He pulled out his cell to make a quick call. 

Desmond ran harder, turning down every hallway he could. He slowed to let the guards catch up only to catch one by surprise by throwing his shoulder into him. The guard grunted and toppled to the ground. Desmond went for the biggest guard next, kicking him in the knee before slamming the back of his hand into the man's face. Bruce came running around the corner next and watched with wide eyes as Desmond grabbed someone by the neck and headbutting him hard enough to break their nose. 

“Desmond!” he stopped at the sound of his name. He looked around before jogging up to Bruce. 

“We should go.” 

Bruce didn't say anything, just followed Desmond out of the airport via a random exit which took them to what looked like the runway. He grabbed Desmond’s good hand and pulled gently. 

“We have to wait. I called someone to come get us.”

“How long?”

“Shouldn't be more than five or six hours.” Desmond paced a bit before growling at him in frustration. Bruce watched him with an unimpressed look. He grabbed the doctor’s hand and pulled him down the runway for a good place to hide. 

“I hope you're guy gets here sooner. Cause this is ridiculous.”

“Why do they want you?” 

“Because they're bad people.” Bruce didn't seem to buy that, but he didn't question it. Getting his arm burnt to a crisp and killing him really didn't make him the most trustworthy. But really, it was probably Lucy that made him most reserved. He lead Bruce as far away from the cameras as he couldn't without leaving the actual runway. He didn't know how long they would be here, but if Bruce's friend was coming,how on earth could were they even going to get here that fast? Isn't it like a thirteen hour flight from the United States? 

Desmond rubbed his burnt arm and plopped unhappily into a sitting position. He didn't want to sit here, but really there was no way he was getting away with getting on a plane without attractive attention from the Templars. He needed a way to get to New York without them having constant documentation of it. Bruce sat next to him.

“You're hiding things from me,” Bruce stated.   
“That's because it's best if you didn't know,” Desmond grumbled in response.

“It might help to get it off you're chest though,” Bruce replied, looking up at the sky for his friend. 

“I thought you were a doctor not a therapist.”

“Well you got me there.” 

They sat silently for a moment. Desmond rubbed at his eyes. Hours could go by and it wouldn't matter, it still felt like ages. He watched as something grew larger in the distance. At first he thought maybe it was real, but then he realized he was staring at a running Ezio. Ezio… was running at them. He stood up slowly, eyes wide and his entire body shaking. Bruce looked up at him then out at whatever he was staring at. He looked back up at Desmond before jumping up. 

“Desmond, your nose is bleeding,” Bruce said, trying to get his attention. Desmond swayed before he fell. Everything around him faded to a dull black. The last thing he heard was Bruce shouting at him.


	4. Chapter 3

Desmond woke up to the sound of people talking. He blinked a bit before looking around. Bruce was there, but that wasn't the voice that made him come to. It was the sound of the man who was sitting on a very luxurious couch with a drink in his hand and sunglasses on. 

“I don't see how that has to pertain to the matter at hand, Tony.” 

“Well you weren't there, Bruce.” 

“That doesn't matter! What you did was wrong!” Desmond sat up, catching both of their attentions. 

“So sleeping beauty awakens,” Tony said, waving his drink at him. Desmond said nothing as he stood up and looked around. 

“How long was I out?” He asked, directing the question at Banner. 

“About sixteen hours. We’re almost to New York.” 

“Great,” Desmond muttered, taking a seat next to Tony. The man was looking at him with an unreadable expression. “What? You want a picture?”

“I think I recognize you,” Tony said, taking off his glasses. His face was bruised and he looked tired. 

“I doubt it.” 

“Bad Weather right?” Desmond turned toward him with a look on his face. “You used to work there. The bartender. I remember you. You made me that fantastic drink. In such a shitty bar, your skills were really overlooked. I offered you to work for me as my personal bartender.” 

“Oh shit. Tony Stark?” Desmond turned towards him fully now. Stark nodded, a smirk on his face. Banner watched the two confused. 

“So you two know each other?” Banner asked, crossing his arms. 

“Yeah, he’d come in all the time. I remember seeing you the first time. What happened to your face?” Tony shrugged at Desmond, putting the sunglasses back on. 

“Got into an argument with someone. You should see the other guy.” 

The entire ride then was filled with Tony trying to get Desmond to make him drinks, though Desmond could hardly remember much from his bartending days. Bruce eventually asked if he could see Desmond’s arm again but the bartender refused. 

“It doesn't hurt.” 

“That's what I'm worried about.” 

The landing didn't happen at an airport like he had expected, but at what looked like a compound. It reminded him of the Farm. Desmond stepped off the aircraft and looked at them. 

“What's the A stand for? Assholes?” He asked, not really talking to anyone. 

“It actually stands for the Avengers,” Tony said, coming up next to him with his hands in his pockets. “Though it was more of an ideal than an actual thing.” 

“Avengers?” Desmond asked. 

“Really? It's been a huge thing since 2012.” 

“I was…. In a coma since December of 2012 so no I don't remember much.” 

“That explains your disappearance I think, but I don't think it explains enough,” Tony said, walking forward and pointing at Desmond as he left. The bartender followed after with Banner following along. “Friday, search for anything on Desmond here.” 

“Certainly, sir. Searching Desmond based on facial recognition,” said an electric voice from nowhere. He watched as screens came up in front of Tony with a million files just based off his face. 

“Oh look. There you are. You were reported missing in September and then… it says you're dead. There's videos of your autopsy.”

“Oh those… those…” Desmond’s flashed yellow and he started cursing. 

“Friday, what language is that?” 

“Ancient Syrian, sir.”

“Can you translate?” 

“He said something about pig fornicaters, sir.”

Desmond moved to look at the screens, eyes searching for anything relating him to the Assassins. Tony watched him for a moment before he touched the screen. 

“Genetic memory manipulation… Patented genomes… huh…” Tony muttered, looking over the files with renewed intrigue. Desmond swiped the screen and all the files went away. He turned to Tony. 

“You really don't want to look into those.”

“Is that a threat, bartender?”

“No. They'll come after you. No matter who you are,” Desmond warned. Bruce moved to stand next to Tony as Desmond walked away to look around the compound. 

“He’s got a severe burn on his right arm… it goes all the way up to the forearm. It's unlike anything I've ever seen. We might need someone with an actual medical degree to get in here to look at it. It keeps peeling and bleeding but everything underneath those are stained black. There's these… strange gold marks stemming their way from his fingers up.” Tony nodded and pulled the files back up that Desmond swiped away. 

“Looks like we have a mystery on our hands… Friday, contact Helen Cho. Tell her it's an emergency.” 

“Will do, sir. Would you also like me to contact Doctor Strange?”

“Yeah, tell him we need him to look at something psychic-y.” 

“Very well, sir.” 

Desmond walked through the compound, hands in his jacket pockets. He could hear thuds, like someone was pounding into the concrete. He turned a corner only to duck because something was very clearly being thrown at the doorway. 

“Holy shit!” he examined, using his arms to protect his head. 

“Oh I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!” and up came what sounded like a kid dressed in a costume that had a spider on the chest. Desmond straightened, more confused than ever.

“You're joking right?” He asked. 

“I didn't mean to fling that at you! Though to be honest, i wasn't expecting someone to walk in. Who are you by the way?” the costumed person asked. Where did this kid come from? 

“It doesn't matter. What the hell are you wearing? You look like a giant stop sign.” 

“I… don't think it's that bad. Do you think it's that bad?” the boy asked, looking down at himself. 

“You look like wallpaper from a Wendy's bathroom,” Desmond snickered. “How old are you even?”

“... S… Seventeen.”

“If you walked into my bar, wearing that, sounding like that, I would not even be convinced if you told me that. And I'm not now. You sound thirteen.” 

“Okay well I'm not!”

“Yeah, I bet you're not. What are you doing here?”

“Me? I train here, what are you doing here?” the boy asked. 

“I was picked up by Tony Stark outside of what I think was an Osaka airport but I'm not sure,” Desmond stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. 

“You didn't tell me your name… and you don't look Japanese…” the boy tilted his head, the large white eyes of his suit narrowing. 

“That's cause I'm not. I don't know what I was doing there. Desmond, by the way.” He stuck his hand out to have the boy shake it. Which he did, a bit too eagerly. 

“Hi! I'm Spiderman.” Desmond gave him a blank look. 

“Really?” He shook his head and walked away from the kid, laughing softly. 

“Hey! Don't laugh! I'm serious!” the boy shouted, following after him. 

“I bet you are! But I am clearly insane so excuse me while I find the shitter.” Desmond waved and continued to walk away. Not only was he apparently in a top secret superhero base, but there was a kid who dressed up as a spider. Great. He was going to have to find a way to get away from this place. There was no way he was going to stay here where he could easily be found and dissected again. If it was the last thing he did, he would never let his DNA fall back into Abstergo's hands again. In fact, he was going to go get the DNA they already had of his. Even if these people didn't want him to.


	5. Chapter 4

Getting out of the compound was easy. Though there was a ton of security, even more so than Abstergo. Then again, this was Tony Stark. The only one who caught him really was a red and green skinned man. They didn't say anything to one another. The man really didn't seem interested in what he was doing at all. But he was certain being seen by him was in fact going to bite him in the ass later. They stared at each other before Desmond decided to just walk away. The red and green man didn't follow him. At least there was that. 

Desmond pulled up his hood at some point when he got to the garage. He nearly keeled over dead at the sight of a line over a dozen extremely expensive cars. He shook his head in disbelief and walked up to one of them. He sighed, running his hand over the handle before gently pulling. The door popped open. 

The car ride was a lot longer than he expected, about 2 and half hours of driving at nearly two in the morning. He parked the car six and a half blocks away in a hidden alley. The walk was more liberating as it braced his muscles for the amount of physical work he was about to do. Desmond kept his hood up, his head down to hide his face. Not a lot of people were out, but they all hardly noticed him. The building came into sight and he moved to an alley close to it. 

With skills he learned from his time going through Ezio’s memories, he scaled the building easily. Pulling himself up over the top of the building was hard, doing so causing a searing pain shoot from his arm. He almost stumbled, but managed to make it up. He breathed heavily, holding his arm carefully. This couldn't wait. They can't continue to have his DNA. Even if it hurt to use his arm in certain ways. Once the pain was gone, he continued forward, launching himself with precision to the next building. 

Desmond looked up at the Abstergo building, knowing full well that their windows weren't capable of being opened. Breaking a window wasn't an option; he didn't want them to know about the break in. He looked up at the building, eyes narrowing as he judged whether he could climb to the roof of it. It was a tall building. Mostly glass. Chewing at his lip, he spotted some holds he could use. But he would have to find a way to get to them. If he went slowly, it would take him hours to get to the top. 

Taking a running jump, Desmond landed carefully on one of the holds by the tips of his fingers. He kept himself from falling by using his feet to lurch his body up to get a better hold. He shimmied across the hold and launched up to grab another ledge. He kept up this routine until he found himself at an area where the next ledge was too far for him to reach. Using his legs again, he launched himself up, getting some momentum by using his toes to keep himself moving. Grabbing the ledge, he pulled himself up and let out a stressed sigh.

The roof was easy enough to reach after that, the pain in his arm more of a numbing throb now. He let himself breathe a moment when he feet hit the flatness of the roof. Desmond closed his eyes a moment and when he reopened them, Altair was standing in front of him. He jerked back, eyes wide. Altair tilted his head at him before moving to the door. Desmond silently followed him and quickly jimmied the door open, hyper aware of the fact that one of his ancestors was watching him critically. The door swung open with a creak and he slipped inside. 

The security cameras were easier to avoid than in Stark’s Asshole Compound. He was able to search all of the labs and grab any file on subject 17 and even grab some vials of his blood. The only reason he was even able to determine which were his, was that the files indicated which were his and even so much as providing how much they had taken from him. He downloaded as much as he could onto a couple flash drives he found then deleted the files from every computer. Nothing was left behind. All the hard copies were shredded. The flash drives were stored in his jean pockets with the vials of blood. 

With that done, Desmond made his way to the record room just to make sure there wasn't any more that he could take away from them. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned and saw that green and red skinned guy. 

“Oh my god, how did you even get in here?”

“Fairly easily, but I'm assuming you shouldn't be here as much as I,” the man replied. He was wearing a sweater with a button up under it. Desmond narrowed his eyes at him. 

“No, seriously how did you get in here?” He was sure he didn't feel like he was being followed at all. 

“I am capable of moving through physical objects.” 

“Of fucking course you are.” 

“Perhaps we should leave.”

“Shut up, I was about to.” Desmond moved passed him but was stopped by a green hand. The man seemed to sink them through the floor before they somehow ended up outside. Now he was sure he was fucking straight up hallucinating. Desmond moved as far away from the man as he could. 

“I did say I could move through physical objects,” the man replied. 

“Yeah, but I wasn't expecting you to do it to me!” Desmond exclaimed, walking as fast as he could back to where he stashed the car. The man followed. 

“I never got your name,” the man said, easily keeping up with him. Desmond nearly growled at him. 

“I'm pretty sure you can get it from Stark or Banner.” 

“I haven't exactly seen any of them as of recent.” Desmond gave the man a look and got into the car. The man got in with him, sitting rather uncomfortably. He watched him for a moment before starting the drive back to the compound, not that he remembered exactly where it was. The man seemed to help with that. About an hour and half into the drive, the man introduced himself as Vision.

“Vision?”

“Yes, I was created. By Mr. Stark.” 

“Of course you were. I'm Desmond.” 

“Desmond is an unusual name aswell,” Vision pointed out. Desmond chuckled. 

“Yeah I guess it is.” 

It was six in the morning by the time they got back, although they took a bit of a detour as Vision pointed to a road Desmond blew past. Tony was standing in the front of the compound, infuriated. The Assassin sighed and parked before getting out of the car. Tony looked ready to start screaming at him but Desmond held up a hand. 

“Don't. I'm not a child. I'm pretty sure I'm twenty-nine.” 

“A twenty-nine year old who stole my car!!!”

“You have fifteen other cars!” 

“That doesn't mean just take one!” Tony shouted. Desmond wanted to punch him right in his stupid rich guy face. 

“At least I brought it back! Though I'm regretting it, I should have left it in an alley!” Tony turned red at that, so red, he resembled the color of the car Desmond took. He rolled his eyes at him and stalked inside. He could hear Tony following him, but he didn't care. He made it to the room he had picked out and slammed the door in Tony’s face before he could come in. 

“You did not just lock this door!” Tony shouted through the door. 

“Pretty fucking sure I did!” He yelled back, flopping on the bed. He could hear Tony stomp away like the petulant man-child he was. He took the flash drives and the vials out of his pocket to put it in the bedside table before he rolled over to face the wall. There was no way he was going to make it living with these infuriating superhumans. 

It took hours and a little nap (a fifteen hour nap) for him to leave the room. He wandered to the kitchen to find Vision making coffee for him. Vision looked up at him with an awkward smile. Desmond offered one back and sat on the counter. He accepted the mug Vision offered. 

“Tony continue his rampage?” He asked, sipping. 

“No, he went down to his workshop to tinker.”

“How much is actually in here?” Desmond found himself asking. 

“Quite a lot. There's rooms for more than 100 people and several underground floors,” Vision said. It was almost relaxing to be around him. It kept him from seeing things he didn't want to see. 

“Why so much?” He asked. 

“We wanted enough room for everyone who came here. Extraordinary people come through here.” Desmond nodded. That explained the spider kid. They sat in silence for a while longer with Desmond drinking his coffee and Vision going about making him something to eat.

“I have a question,” Vision asked, stopping what he was doing to look at Desmond, who raised his brows in response. “On the roof of that building, you stumbled. Like you saw something. But there was nothing else up there.” Desmond almost choked. 

“Oh… uh… if I tell you, it would explain why I was… at that place.” Vision watched him expectantly. 

“So the tem… Abstergo, kidnapped me back in September of 2012. They forced me to use my genetics to… research my ancestral history. They had me lay on this table that was hooked up with my blood and showed me memories from ancestors that were alive thousands of years ago.

“I escaped. But I was still forced to be in that machine. In that machine, I was able to relive what my ancestors did. And by doing this, there's costs. It can… make you insane. I'm pretty sure I'm insane from it. Three months. I was in that machine multiple times for long periods of time for three months. And when you're in it for long periods of time, it can cause hallucinations, relapses back into the time periods you were reliving.”

“That sounds awful,” Vision responded softly.

“What happened on the roof is that I saw one of my ancestors. Which… not a good sign. Like… really not a good sign,” Desmond muttered, sipping his coffee. Vision was quiet for a little. 

“What did you grab from that place?”

“I grabbed everything they had on me. I was dead, Vision. Like… super dead. They had my DNA. They aren't supposed to have it.” 

“If you were dead, how are you here?”

“I don't know. Maybe I wasn't dead. But it's hard to tell when they made videos of your autopsy and you wake up four years in the future,” Desmond mused. He set his mug down and looked at Vision. The man-made being looked thoughtful. 

“Whatever it is. We can figure it out together.” Desmond chuckled and hopped off the counter. Vision followed him around until they found the what looked like a rec room. 

“I could have told you where this is.” Desmond looked at Vision with miffed look on his face as he sat down on the couch. 

“Why didn't you say something?” 

“I wasn't sure what you were looking for.” Desmond rolled his eyes and flicked on the tv. They stayed like that, watching cartoons with Desmond giving Vision some explanations of why something was funny. Eventually Bruce joined them with a mug of coffee of his own and then Tony who also had coffee. The morning went by quietly. Desmond was enjoying just being around them when they weren't being totally annoying.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Desmond is kind of a brat in this. Most of my work is written on my phone during work so please excuse the spelling errors, I'll certainly try to stay on top of them.

Weeks went by without any kind of incident from Abstergo and Desmond was sure that they hadn’t noticed that their information on Subject 17 was missing. He was usually wrong when it came to Templars though. They always crawled out of the woodwork in some way.

It started like every other day. Desmond sitting watching cartoons while Vision made everyone in the compound at the time breakfast. Rhodes and Stark were watching with him, though Stark was hovering over Rhodes’ wheelchair in case the man wanted to move off the couch. He wasn't sure what had happened but the man looked much better than when he first met him. He was smiling and joking and he even said Desmond was a good kid (even though he was not a kid anymore). 

It had happened so fast, not even Vision had seen it coming even though the guy had a weird stone on his head that kept him alive. The last thing he saw was Rhodes and Stark being thrown clear across the room.

If he had been in pain when he first woke up, he hoped he was dying now. His ears were ringing so loudly and he couldn't see anything, every breath he took burned his lungs like he had smoked four packs of cigarettes every day since he was three. He coughed and tried to move. Everything was dark, but he could hear Tony shouting and he could hear the crackle of fire. Desmond pulled himself up and groaned.

“Stark!” he called, throat sore from breathing in the smoke and debris. 

“Desmond? Over here!” Desmond crawled his way towards his voice. Through the dust, he could see the shine of the arc reactor in Tony’s chest. The house shook again and the ceiling started to crumble. 

“We have to get out!” Rhodes voice sounded over the building crumbling. Desmond moved to pull Rhodes from under the couch. It wasn't until he saw Vision coming through the crumbling ceiling that he realized that Vision was the one that could get them out of the burning building. 

“Banner is safely outside. I made sure he was out of sight.” Tony lifted Rhodes up to support him. 

“Vision, can you get us all out?” Desmond asked.

“Yes. Take my hands.”

Everyone placed their hands on Vision and they were carried safely to where Banner is. Stark kept Rhodes held up as soon as Vision pulled away. 

“Who attacked us?” Rhodes asked. Desmond turned and squinted to survey the enemy. A group of four. He knew that group. 

“Abstergo.”

“They sent Osto Berg,” Desmond muttered, eyes tracking the people making their way through the rubble of what used to be the Avengers compound.

“Who the hell is Abstergo?” Desmond looked at Tony, who's face was stressed and covered in dirt. They had all made it out with some scratches, but they all could have died… and it would have been his fault. 

“They… control the government. Otherwise known as Templars,” Desmond explained, sitting on the ground. “We’re stuck… They'll find us in the hour if we don't get out of here.”

Tony looked around before helping Rhodes take a seat too. He rubbed his face as soon as his friend was comfortable and started to pace. Desmond watched him pace, practically hearing the gears turning in his head. He stopped before he pulled out a small flip phone that didn't at all fit his high tech attitude. He flipped it open and stared at it before snapping it closed. He held it in his hand and continued to pace. Desmond watched as the team worked their way through the still crumbling compound. He rubbed his right arm gently and stood.

“Look you may not like this. I certainly don't. But I need you to listen,” they all turned to him. “I can't explain everything to you yet. But as soon as we’re far away from here, I will. I promise. But you have to follow my lead.” He turned and pointed to aircraft that had been sitting in the runway since he had arrived there. “If we can get to that, we can get to safety right?” Tony took a step forward to look with him. 

“Possibly. What makes you think we need a big carrier though?” He asked, crossing his arms. 

“There's five of us. Four of them. I'm not too sure about you, but I only see one superhuman here and that's Vision. You want him to carry all five of us?” Desmond asked, crossing his arms back. 

“That would be too much, even for Vision. I agree with Desmond. If we can make it to the carrier, we can maybe get somewhere relatively far from here,” Banner stated. Vision looked down at Rhodes. 

“And that carrier can camouflage itself, right Tony?” Rhodes asked. Tony looked back at Rhodes and then at Desmond. He had a fire in his eyes that Desmond had never seen before. Is this why this bratty man was supposed to be an Avenger? Because suddenly, Desmond was sure that no matter what, Tony would get them all out safely even if it cost him his life. 

It didn’t take them long to work out all the kinks of the plan. Vision was to get Rhodes safely to the carrier before he was to blow up the helicopter that Abstergo arrived in. Tony and Banner were to sneak onto the carrier while Desmond broke up the back up and made sure no one saw them. Despite how complicated it could get, Tony had said there was one of his suits in the carrier so they would have extra back up if they needed it.

Vision left first, floating his way toward the carrier with Rhodes in his arms. Once Vision emerged from the carrier, Banner and Stark ran for the carrier with Desmond lagging behind to keep an eye out on the surroundings. They could hear what Desmond would describe as a laser beam and then an explosion. The helicopters rotor blades came flying through the air. Tony hurried into the front seat of the carrier, sweat dripping down his brow as he got it started up. Banner sat with Rhodes, gripping the seat as tightly as possible. Desmond sprinted the rest of the way, diving into the carrier as it started to lift off the ground. The door shut behind him. 

“Everyone hold on!” Tony shouted and pulled the craft up so fast that everyone rocked in their seats. Desmond cursed at him, but Tony ignored it and the carrier rocketed into the skyline. Vision melted his way through the craft and sat in a seat. It was quiet for a good thirty minutes, Desmond pulling himself off the floor and sagging into the copilot seat before he started to laugh. Tony smirked as Desmond leaned over to punch his arm. 

“We almost died,” Banner reprimanded from the back. 

“But we’re alive, Brucey!” Tony replied. The silence meant that Banner must have rolled his eyes. Even Rhodes was chuckling. 

Hours went by and they were still flying, but Desmond wasn’t sure which direction. Tony had set it on auto pilot a few hours ago, but with no particular course. The carrier was just flying. Eventually, the assassin got up and moved to where everyone was. They had all managed to get cleaned up, their clothes still very much dirty, but no one seemed to mind. Desmond sat with Tony. 

“I think… it’s time you all learn about the Templars.” Everyone looked up at him. Slowly, he started to explain the Templars and the Assassins, the war between them and how it all lead up to him until he got to the part where he died. He stopped to breathe for a minute with everyone’s eyes on him. 

“So what you’re saying is… the entire world is run by this one organization,” Rhodes said, leaning forward a bit. Desmond nodded, putting his head in his hands. 

“How have we not heard this before?” Tony asked, obviously furious.

“You have been working with Templars this entire time. Do you really think that you would find out the inner workings of a secret order that has been around since 1191?” the Assassin grumbled.

“So where do you fall into all this?” Banner asked, quietly chewing on his nail. 

“I’m part of the Brotherhood. Or I was. Until I died.” Everyone was quiet then. They stayed that way for a long time. Even Vision didn’t have any questions. 

“So it’s the five of us… up against the world basically?” Tony asked. Desmond nodded, rubbing his hands on his pants. “I need to make a call.” Tony stood and walked to the cockpit. He closed the door behind him. Everyone watched him go before the questions started rolling in for Desmond.

Even though he tried his best to answer everything to the best of his knowledge, he did let them know that the last four years have been lost to him. They didn’t ask about his time in the animus, only Vision knew about his hallucinations. Tony eventually came back after what felt like a shift in direction. 

“So… we’re going to Wakanda,” he started. Everyone looked at each other confused.

“Who did you call, Tony?” Rhodes asked, face more serious than Desmond had ever seen before. 

“I called Steve…” 

The shouting started then and Desmond tried to keep up with what was going on. It didn’t seem to matter what was being said, but everyone was shouting. Desmond stood up silently. 

“Hey!!” Rhodes and Tony, the main shouters, turned to him, both red face with anger. “This needs to stop! We need somewhere to go. If Wakanda is the place, then we will deal with this-” Desmond motioned to the two of them. “Later! Sound good?” Rhodes huffed, crossing his arms and leaning back into his seat, but he nodded. Tony nodded a moment later and returned to the cockpit. The Assassin shook his head and followed him. 

“Can we trust Steve?” Desmond asked, sitting in the copilot seat. Tony was silent before he nodded. 

“More than we can trust anyone else at the moment.” That wasn’t a confidence booster. The flight was mainly uneventful, Desmond usually having to break up any kind of shouting before it even started, but nothing really happened much. It was only when they actually were flying over Wakanda that everything seemed to happen. Friday informed Tony they were going to be landing soon, but Tony seemed tense, even a little worried. 

Desmond was just struck with how beautiful it was. The carrier started lowering near what looked like a panther statue. He watched as armed guards surrounded the craft as it landed. Tony opened the doors and stepped out first. He was greeted by a man in a really expensive suit and another man in a t-shirt and jeans. They stopped in front of each other as Vision carried Rhodes out with Banner right behind them. Desmond didn’t leave the carrier yet, watching Tony and the blonde man talk. He eventually came out of the carrier to stand next to Tony when he saw him start to get agitated. The blonde looked over at him, brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Tony, please tell me this is not the kid from Queens…”

“No, this is Desmond. He’s from…” Tony looked over at Desmond, a questioning look on his face. 

“South Dakota.”

“South Dakota,” Tony repeated, turning back to the blonde man. “Desmond, this is Captain Steve Rogers.” Desmond raised a brow and looked down at Steve’s hand when he extended it to be shaken. He hesitated before taking the man’s hand and shaking it. 

“Okay,” was the only thing Desmond said. 

“Your Majesty,” Tony greeted to the other man, who was in the expensive business suit. Steve seemed to take in both of their appearances.

“What happened to you?” he asked. Desmond rolled his eyes and gently pushed Tony away from this man who seemed to have a lot of questions. Tony gave him a confused look before offering to tell them later when they were all better situated. The Assassin looked at every single person surrounding them, looking for the telltale sign of a Templar. Most of them glowed a dull green when he focused, but Steve and the King (apparently they were going to hang out with the King of Wakanda) glowed a small bit of blue. Though he didn’t trust them. 

Once Rhodes was put into a wheelchair, Vision and Banner rolled him over to where Tony and Desmond were. They spoke quietly to each other while Desmond watched their surroundings. He was drawn back into the conversation when Steve walked up with a woman who had dark brown hair and a red jacket. She seemed just as uncomfortable as they all were. 

“Wanda…” Vision said, concern clear in his voice. She turned her face away from him. Desmond narrowed his eyes at them. She crossed her arms as everyone seemed to take in the fact that they were all actually here. The tension was clear. 

“Why are you all here?” she asked, clearly suspicious. Desmond stepped forward at the same time Tony did. 

“We were attacked. They destroyed the compound. We had nowhere else to go,” Banner said, biting at his nail again. Wanda looked at all of them, taking in the scratches and bruises left from being crushed by a building. 

“No one else was there with you?” Steve asked. Tony shook his head. “Were you all inside at the time?” he asked again. Desmond looked at Rhodes and Tony. Tony nodded again, probably the most uncomfortable of them all. He opened his mouth to speak before someone was shouting. 

“Where is he?! TONY!” came an angry voice. In walked a man, followed by a couple more people who were trying to see what was going to happen. As soon as the man laid eyes on Tony, he was running at him. Desmond was the first to react, grabbing the man’s hand before it hit Stark in the face and twisted it as hard as he could. The man flipped with the pull of his arm and moved to kick at him. Desmond ducked and pulled the man down, pinning him. 

“Hey! Hey!!” Steve shouted, moving to pull Desmond off the man. He pulled a knife up from the man’s side and held it to his throat, glaring Steve down. Wanda had moved too, about to pull the knife from Desmond with her magic, but Steve held his hand out, keeping her from intervening. 

“There’s no need for violence,” Steve said calmly. Desmond glared before moving off the man who looked a little stunned he’d been dropped so fast. He moved to get off the floor and glared at everyone, stopping at Tony. 

“Clint…” Steve warned. The man, Clint, moved to stand behind Steve. 

“Who is that?” He asked, nodding at Desmond. 

“That’s Desmond,” Banner replied, moving to stand next to Desmond. Though they all weren’t incompetent with fighting, Desmond had just taken down Clint Barton who was on par with Natasha in hand to hand combat. The Assassin watched all of them. 

“So do you know who attacked?” Steve asked.

“Yes,” Desmond responded. They all seemed to wait for him to continue.

“Are you going to elaborate?” a man asked, brown eyes set distinctly on the apparent newbie. 

“No.” 

“Can we do this later?” Tony asked,rubbing his face. Steve nodded after a bit and Desmond pushed past, shoving his hands into his pockets. Tony, Bruce, Vision and Rhodes followed him. Steve wandered somewhere behind them and he could tell as the man’s footsteps were heavier than most everyone else’s going down the hall. 

“You can choose from the rooms on the next floor up,” Steve said. The call crunched into the elevator. Steve was right next to Desmond, he could feel his arm pressed against him. 

“So, you’re Desmond.”

“Great conversation starter.”

“How long have you known everyone?” Steve asked, ignoring the snarky comment. 

“Well, Tony I met while I was a bartender, so maybe a couple years. Everyone else, maybe a couple of months at most.”

“And you know who attacked you?”

“Yeah, I do.” The elevator dinged and Steve lead the way towards their rooms and let them get settled. 

“I expect everyone down stairs for a better explanation in an hour,” Steve said once they were all at their rooms. 

“You can expect me down when I’m ready to come down,” Desmond said, pulling his jacket off. Steve gave him a look.

“That’s an order.”

“Last time I checked, I’m not part of your little Asshole team here. So you can take your orders, and shove it.” Desmond then closed his door in Steve’s face. He took a quick shower and stared down at his arm. The golden lines along his arm were stemming a lot further than they were before. He chewed on his lip for a moment, before looking up at himself in the mirror. He looked like shit. He groaned, wandering over to the bed and contemplated how his life had turned out like this when he was supposed to be dead. Slowly, he started to drift off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I lost my job recently and I was really frustrated so I hope this is an okay chapter and that they're aren't too many mistakes in it

It seemed like every time he woke up now, he was in pain. Whether it was his arm or the fact that a building was exploded over him. It didn't matter. He always felt pain. His entire body was on fire and he couldn't help but whimper as he tried to sit up. His body scream at him to just stay in the bed he was in, but he couldn't. He had to move or his body would continue to scream at him. Desmond pulled himself up and threw his door open. He forced himself into a steady jog to the elevator to stretch everything out. He bent down to touch his toes when he reached the elevator. The elevator dinged in front of him and he straightened up to see Steve. 

“I was just coming to get you,” he commented as Desmond joined him in the elevator. “There's something you should see.”  He didn't like the way that sounded.

Once they made it down to common room, Desmond immediately saw what he needed to see. On the television, there was the burning Avengers compound. Up on the screen was the broadcaster, talking about the tragedy and how the Avengers were missing from it even though they were reported to have been inside. Desmond looked at Tony, who had a fist to his mouth in frustration.

“The prime suspects for this terrible tragedy are Captain Steven Rogers and the Winter Soldier. We have key witnesses showing these two men at the compound at the time of attack.” Two pictures came onto the screen. “Here’s one of the witnesses now.”

A woman came on to the screen. He knew that woman. He stepped forward, tilting his head as she spoke about how she was “just driving by” and saw Captain America and the Winter Soldier just blow up the base.

“She's one of them.”

“One of who?” Steve asked, looking worried that he was being framed for something he didn't do.

“She's a Templar.” Everyone looked at him, some confused, others with complete and utter realization. “She's part of their top kill squad. She helped blow up the compound.”

Bruce was visibly shaking, anger rippling through him. Tony was pacing again. Clint was glaring daggers at Desmond while the Assassin was turning to Steve.

“You have no way to prove you weren't there. They knew that. They must have someone on the inside who is controlling your every move,” Desmond explained. Tony sucked in sharply and all eyes turned to him.

“Ross…” Desmond looked at him as everyone was starting to really take in what was happening.

“So this Ross, how do we get Intel on him?” Desmond asked. “Pictures, articles. Details, what's he like, what he wears.”

“He has this pair of cufflinks… I always thought they were tacky. But he used to tell me they were important to him. That they were given to him by a very good friend.” Stark started.

“Oh great. A plus description.” Tony shot him a look.

“They're red. Red crosses. He wears them occasionally. Not often.” Desmond turned around, digging around for a pen before the King (someone he had not noticed) handed him one from his jacket. Desmond started to crudely draw with on his left hand the cross design of the Templars.

“This?” He showed it to Tony.

“That's it.”

“This is the brand of the templar. They usually come as rings. But cufflinks work too. They're more subtle,” Desmond gave the pen back to T’Challa with a small thank you.

“You're telling us about Templars, but some of us have no idea what that means,” said a man in the corner. Desmond looked at him for a moment.

“I'm sorry. I don't… seem to know everyone's names,” Desmond muttered, slowly looking at everyone who he had not officially been introduced to. The King spoke first.

“I am T’Challa.”

“Scott Lang.”

“Sam Wilson.”

“Wanda Maximoff.”

“Clint.”

“Where's Natasha?” Steve asked, directing the question at Tony.

“She left right after you did.” That seemed to tick Clint off more than before, but he stayed silent. Desmond looked around at everyone taking in their appearance.

“So I'm sensing some tension. Should I be aware of anything before we get started?” Desmond asked, specifically looking at Tony and Steve.

“Yes,” Steve said, blue eyes piercing his soul while Tony said no. Desmond sat down next to Scott.

“Can you tell me what happened?” He asked the man.

“Oh yeah. So that Ross guy wanted us superheroes to sign this law right? Saying that we would have to take orders from the government on whether or not us superheroes were needed right? And some of us were totally against it while others were totally for it. So the guys you came with? Yeah they signed the law thing and now us here, we’re fugitives. Despite being U.S citizens and completely awesome people.”

“Scott... ” Steve shook his head. Desmond looked to all of them, taking in everyone’s features.

“It was better to just sign it so we wouldn't have any further blood on our hands,” Tony said, not looking at anyone.

“No, you signed it because you can't cope with your misplaced guilt over people we couldn't save,” Clint spat.

“They were better for everyone involved!” Desmond jumped up at that.

“Hey! Someone better explain everything to me right the fuck now!” He put his burnt hand to Clint’s chest. The man looked down at the hand before he slowly backed up. Desmond moved his hand back to his side. Just then everyone took time explaining exactly what had happened to have them all split up. At some point, people were yelling at each other again about intentions and other kinds of bullshit that Desmond was tired of listening to. T’Challa really seemed to be the only sane person in the room who was just watching as the arguments played out.

“Enough!!” Everyone stopped at him shouting. They were giving him such a bad migraine and he could feel Altaïr whispering in his head, making him rub at his ear to stop the noise. Vision took a step toward him, worry filling his unnatural features.

“Let me get this straight… You risked the lives of your friends to kill your other friends for making a mistake that you wouldn't just sit down to talk about?” He pointed to Steve about this. The man looked about to argue before Desmond threw a couch pillow at him to shut him up. “And you, signed a deal with the government knowing that you would be used as weapons of mass destruction for the good of the States? Are you both fucking mental?” Everyone quietly stared at him. The whispering in his head got louder.

“You knew that this Barnes guy wouldn't be put through therapy. You knew. I know you did. You have dealt with the government before, kicking you to the curb to do the things  _ they  _ wanted! When have you, Anthony Stark,  _ ever _ done what other people wanted? You can't sit here and say it was the right thing to do after realizing that you basically sold yourself to people who want to control other people! That's what you fucking did! That's what all of you did!” Desmond turned back to Rogers.

“And you! You say you stand for freedom? For justice? Where the fuck have you been? Clearly not doing anything! You're sitting here in a country you don't actually fucking live in! Because you're not free. And no one here is! You can't talk about right and wrong because, from what I'm getting here, you don't fucking know either! Look at everyone around you.” He gestured to Clint, Scott, Wanda, Rhodes, Banner, Vision, T’Challa and Sam.

“Did you think about what their lives would be like if you hadn't dragged this out the way that you have? No? Who here has kids? A wife? A home besides the fucking Avengers?” Desmond pointed at Clint as soon as he raised his hand.

“You're standing here telling me that what you did was right when you didn't fucking do anything to make it better!” Desmond could feel the blood running down his nose now. The voices were yelling now and he could recognize each of his ancestors, screaming at him. Screaming the words he was saying. He turned back to Tony, dizzy, but too furious to stop.

“You got your friends tossed in prison! The people you claim you were trying to protect? They're fugitives because you fucking sold your soul to an order that's so ancient, the entire world is run by them! Because you can't handle the fact that they left! That they didn't agree with you! And because you felt abandoned you did nothing to rectify what you did!” He gestured to all of them.

“Your bullshit doesn't matter anymore! We have bigger problems and if you want to solve them you have to fucking get over yourselves… because… we will get… nowhere…” Desmond put a hand to his head, watching everyone standing up in slow motion. He heard himself hitting the ground before he felt it, watching as Altaïr, Ezio and Connor stood over him with the rest of the shitty people around him. His vision was fading and all he could hear was Altaïr talking to him and he was responding back. That was the last thing he could remember.

\-----

Steve paced the hallway in front of the infirmary, worriedly rubbing his chin. Desmond had just been awake and fine. Then the next thing he knew, the kid was on the ground and there was blood coming out his nose and ears in waves. Gibberish was coming out of his mouth before his eyes had closed. Vision had been the first to jump up to try to get him to stay awake but every time Desmond opened his eyes after that all they saw was a golden yellow painting the whites of his eyes in a sickly way. 

Steve had carried him down to the infirmary while everyone followed. Currently everyone was waiting in the waiting room for news while Banner tried to figure out how to get the kid to wake up. Only a couple hours had gone by, but Steve couldn't help but be concerned. Captain nearly jumped out of his skin when Vision put a hand on his shoulder. Steve looked at him.

“What's wrong with him?” Steve found himself asking. Vision looked away for a moment before he decided telling him was the best option.

“The Templars put him in a machine he calls the animus so they could find some kind of artifacts that his ancestors had come into contact with. With long periods of exposure, Desmond has hallucinations of those ancestors. Sometimes I find him sleep walking and he's talking in an ancient Arabic language, or a older version of Italian. Sometimes it's a broken sounding English or some Native language that I have been able to determine as Mohawk. But… all those times he talks, the voices are never his. They are all different voices.”

Steve rubbed his face and pressed his back to the wall by the infirmary. How had a kid like him been able to see the fault in all their decisions? It was like he was reading open books. Vision watched as Steve seemed to take in this information.

“That is not all. His right arm. It's burn is unusual. There are geometric lines from his palm to his bicep. They are dents in his skin. Before the attack, when he first got to us, it was peeling charred skin. Like his arm had been forced into the sun. The char has more than come off, but the skin is still black like charcoal.”

With that Steve pushed himself off the wall and stormed into the room. Desmond was connected to a breathing machine and an IV. His right arm lay out in the open for him to see what Vision was talking about. Vision moved to stand next to the bed and touched the arm.

“There's a strange energy coming from him that I cannot place. It's ancient,” Vision said. Steve moved forward to touch the boy's arm as well. It felt smooth like it was his skin, but the golden streams did make dents. What had those people done to this kid?

Desmond was breathing steadily and his heart rate was fine from what Steve could see. He moved to leave the room so he could sit in the waiting room with everyone else. He sat down next to Sam, who was quietly talking with Rhodes. He looked up when Steve sat next to him. Rhodes leaned a bit to look at him as well.

“How is he?” Rhodes asked, clearly concerned. Steve nodded and ran a hand through his hair.

“He's okay. He's just resting I think. Though it appears we just witnessed an episode of hallucinations,” he explained, gently resting back into his seat.

“Wait, he's having hallucinations?” Tony asked, stepping forward from his place in the corner. Steve nodded and gestured to Vision.

“He apparently has them a lot. Vision told me. From that organization that bombed the compound.” Tony looked to Vision, who looked innocent in knowing anything about Desmond.

“His ears were bleeding…” Wanda said softly.

“He hears them. He sees them. Sometimes, he becomes them,” Vision replied to her, just as quiet as she was being. She looked up at him with concern, more at knowing someone did this to him.

"Who’s them?” Scott asked, tapping his foot anxiously.

“His ancestors. He's never told me their names. But I think he might now. They put him into a machine so he would relive their memories from deep within his genetic code so he would find ancient artifacts,” Vision explained, sitting down next to Wanda who was comfortable enough to lean into him.

“So… he was experimented on. For how long?” Steve asked.

“Four months. With only ten minutes as a break in between. He said he would very rarely get rest. That once it put him into a coma for a good month. He said that prolonged exposure causes hallucinations and those cause insanity. The Bleeding Effect is what he called it,” Vision continued. “He told me he was dead from December 21 of 2012 until a couple months ago. That he isn't sure where those four years went and he woke up in a body bag in Japan. Where he met Doctor Banner.”

Everyone quietly took that in. Tony looked down at his feet before he looked back up. There was exhaustion in his face and regret.

“I… I realize I have been… A terrible friend, a terrible teammate. A terrible person. And I got you all put into situations where you were forced to make a decision you shouldn't have been pushed to make. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I did all of this to every one of you. I… I shouldn't be here, asking you to do anything for me. And I don't deserve your help. But this isn't about me. This is about Rhodes, about Vision, about Bruce and Desmond... I can't put them through anything else.” Tony took a deep breathe before he moved to step out of the room. Clint got up and followed him out. When Clint came back his fist was red and everyone knew that he had punched Tony. Scott looked confused while everyone else sat quietly. Bruce stepped up and moved to see if Desmond was awake.

Steve got up and moved to find Tony. He found him sitting just outside the door, holding his nose. He sat down next to him. They sat quietly next to each other.

“I just wanted to keep everyone together and I tore us all apart,” Tony said. There was something broken in his voice and Steve knew that even though Tony had been wrong, he at least was willing to admit it. Which was hard for Tony to do. He rested his hand on the man's shoulder.

“We both weren't totally right. In this situation. I should have spoken to you before we did anything else. But I didn't. And we’re here. Even if we are kind of split. We can fix this,” Steve assured. Tony looked up at him and Steve was sure they could do it. They had to set an example for the rest of the team.

“So Desmond slammed the door in my face earlier. What kind of stuff have you said about me to him?” Steve asked after a bit of silence.

“Oh, no. I didn't tell him anything up until a couple of hours ago. I don't think he even knows you're Captain America. He just does that. He's a huge brat.”

“Sounds familiar,” Steve laughed softly. He patted Tony’s shoulder.

\----

Desmond opened his eyes and blinked a bit. The room was slowly spinning and he felt like he was going puke. He leaned over the side of the bed he was in and let the contents of his stomach out on the floor. The sound of the door opening was something that was easy to ignore, but Bruce’s feet coming into view was what he looked up at.

“You look terrible,” Bruce commented.

“I feel like shit.”

“Why didn't you say anything about the hallucinations?” Bruce asked, sticking a thermometer under Desmond’s armpit.

“How would you feel telling strangers you're going insane?” Desmond asked.

“Well… I guess you're right there. Can you stand?”

Desmond moved to stand up, wobbling a little bit. Bruce came up and offered his shoulder to lean on. They made their way out of the infirmary, finding Steve and Tony on the floor just outside. They jumped up.

“You're okay,” Steve breathed. Desmond nodded and jerked a thumb at the room he'd just come out of.

“I puked on the floor…”

“That's okay. I'll ask T’Challa to send someone to clean it up,” Steve said, moving to help Bruce get Desmond into the waiting room. Vision was the first to stand up when he saw Desmond. He reached for him in concern, but the Assassin just waved him away. He moved to take a seat by Wanda with Vision on the other side of him. He tried his best to control his breathing so he wouldn’t puke again.

“Desmond,” the King started. “I think you should tell us more about these Templars.” Desmond nodded and leaned forward to talk, only to leave forward and let more vomit out onto the floor in front of him. The people closest besides Vision moved away. He held up a hand, dry heaving while Vision gently rubbed his back.

“Vision…” he choked out. Vision’s face came into view. “Help me out here?” The green and red skinned man nodded, looking up as he got ready to explain the best of his knowledge. Tony butted in to pull up the holographic screens from his watch. He had dug some digging into Abstergo while he had been waiting on Desmond.

“It’s very old. From all the way back to the crusades. They were a special group of religious knights, but there were a select powerful members of the church who were looking for specific artifacts. Artifacts from beings who honestly might be from Thor’s world. From what I found, Desmond has been kidnapped and held by them for a long time. There's no evidence of it. Apparently some of their files went missing a few weeks ago,” Tony stated. Desmond gently raised his hand.

“That was me.”

“There's no video footage of you getting into that building,” Tony remarked.

“I have a tendency to be able to do that. Bleeding Effect,” Desmond explained, a burp coming up that tasted so vile he was sure he was going to vomit again. He watched as a servant came in and started cleaning up the mess he'd just made before handing him a bucket.

“So this Bleeding Effect can make you not show up on security footage?” Clint asked, rolling his eyes.

“No, shithead. I can just avoid them. Ever had to do that or were you just too busy trying to pretend you're a rag tag team of superheros?” Desmond glared up at him.

“You better watch that mouth of yours,” Clint growled back.

“What are you going to do? I remember you being the one getting pinned down,” Desmond shot back. Clint looked away angrily. Sam slowly leaned over and whispered something into Clint’s ear that seemed to make him relax.

“So how do we know they won't find us?” Sam asked once he was done whispering to Clint.

“We don't. They have eyes everywhere. I wouldn't be surprised if they had some members in his majesty’s court.” T’Challa narrowed his eyes.

“How would we be able to tell?” the king asked.

“If you can't find their signature ring, you can tell by the Abstergo triangle,” Desmond responded while Tony pulled it up from his watch. The Assassin pointed at it. “And you know… while we’re here, I should get some more sleep… cause I still don't feel good…”

“Vision explained to us what kind of hallucinations you have. He also said you have nightmares and you sleepwalk. Do you know everything that comes with this Bleeding thing?” Sam asked. Desmond shrugged, running a thumb over the scar on his lip.

“It just… happens. Prolonged exposure… you just forget you're just going through memories.”

“How many of them have you gone through?” Clint asked, finally showing an emotion other than anger. Desmond blinked at him and pursed his lips.

“Three...”

“Should we be aware of which one we’re talking to if they happen to slip into your head?” Rhodes asked.

“Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad. From the crusades. Probably the biggest asshole you’ll meet if you can understand what he's saying. Then there's Ezio Auditore. He's from Renaissance Italy. Then Ratonhnhaké:ton.”

“Rag ton de what?” Scott murmured quietly.

“Ratonhnhaké:ton. You can call him Connor,” Desmond chuckled weakly. Steve looked around at the people assembled before him.

“We should all try to collect as much information about these Templars as we can. Tony? Think you can hack into some of their databases?” the Cap asked. Tony scoffed halfheartedly.

“Think? I know I can. Give me 5 hours,” Tony responded already walking out of the room. T’Challa followed soon after, planning on checking to make sure of anyone in the palace being a part of that secret order. Vision helped Desmond stand while everyone left the infirmary waiting room to get anything they could find that resembled a connection to the Templars and Abstergo. Clint helped Vision move Desmond slowly to the door, but Steve stopped him.

“We have to find Natasha,” Steve said quietly. Clint nodded and looked at Desmond.

“We should wake up Barnes,” Clint murmured. Desmond seemed to hear that.

“He’s here? Can I meet him?” Desmond asked, trying to stand without Vision holding him, which didn't work.

“He’s… he's been put into a cryogenic sleep,” Steve said. Desmond blinked at him.

“You're joking right? Wasn't this entire civil war about him being framed? Just for him to be put back into an unnatural sleep?”

“He wanted us to. Said it was safer for us,” Clint verified.

“That really doesn't make it better. Yeah, we should wake him up. Like yesterday,” Desmond snarked, letting Vision lead him from the room.

“That kid is such a brat,” Clint grumbled. Steve just laughed softly at him.

“Yeah, he's going to be a handful.”


End file.
